Two For the Price of One, Ch. 4
Previously:
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Disclaimer: The SKKS-verse belongs to the creators of Sungkyunkwan Scandal. I must also admit I named Yong-ha's sister-in-law after the new President of the Republic of Korea :)
Technical Notes: Haeju is a city in present-day North Korea, further up the coast from Seoul (but not as far north as Pyongyang). My understanding is that the place already had that name in the Joseon era. Also, a norigae is an ornament fastened to a woman's hanbok, either on the jacket or skirt.
Author's Notes: At long last (after a bit of a struggle to finish writing the last few scenes), here's the latest chapter of this fic. Hopefully the rest will be easier to write! Thank you to naddyamal, Myeongwol07, and marzelle123 (nice to meet you!) for reviewing the previous chapter!
Chapter Four
The consultation with Cho-sun promised to yield a fairly unique lesson plan, but to avoid shocking his neophyte pupil, Yong-ha decided to start with the basics. "We begin with the art of conversation," he announced at Iseul's next appointment, which also signalled the start of the flirting lessons. "There is no better way to engage a man's attention than with a scintillating exchange of ideas."
Her eyebrows rose at the word "scintillating." "Conversation about what?"
"Oh, about practically anything," he replied, shrugging. "But usually something that interests the man."
"Of course."
Madam Park, overseeing the lesson from a comfortable seat in one corner of the workroom, tutted disapprovingly at her granddaughter's dry remark. "Now, Iseul, you must address your teacher with the proper respect."
"Thank you, Halmeonim," Yong-ha said with great dignity.
The old woman gave him a cheeky smile. "After all,” she added, “if all the gossip I've been hearing is correct, he is an expert in his field."
Jung-soo. This is for Bang Jung-soo. Iseul took a deep breath and pasted a pleasant expression on her face. "And what sort of subjects are interesting to men, seonsaengnim?"
"Well, we like to talk about horses and sport, to begin with," the merchant told her. "Of course, once you become better acquainted with someone, it becomes easier to find more specific topics of conversation. For instance...." His eye fell on the portfolio in her lap. "I, personally, am interested in the visual arts. If you were flirting with me, then you might try to start a conversation about the sketches that you said you brought for me to look at. May I see them?"
Iseul blushed self-consciously. Unlike the pieces she painted to order, the ones she had with her were more private works, her very own ideas executed in her personal style. "You might think they're silly," she demurred.
"A true gentleman would never think such a thing," the young man assured her. "Please, may I?"
Slowly, she handed over the paperboard folder, opening it so that he could take out the drawings inside. "I-I came up with a few ideas for my clothes after our last meeting," she explained as he leafed through them. "I thought about some things that might look good together, but I don't know how much it would cost, but...." She gestured ineffectually. "For whatever it's worth, there they are."
"These are excellent, Teacher Kim," Yong-ha praised her. The heads and hands of the figures were mere suggestions, but the clothing, complete with prints and embroidery designs, was meticulously rendered. "You have a very good eye for line and color. May I keep these?”
She looked pleased by the compliments, but the request brought her up short. “What are you going to do with them?”
“We will use them as a guide for your new clothes, of course,” he explained with a patient smile. “We might not be able to copy everything exactly, but we will do what we can to match your drawings. The jewel tones you used here will complement your coloring very nicely."
"You really think they're good?"
“Yes,” he assured her, “I think they are very good. I should have known that you had inherited some of your grandparents' talent."
"Oh." She laughed, and the expression quite transformed her whole face. "I don't really know about that. My grandparents were artists. I'm just a painting teacher."
"Iseul." Madam Park spoke up again from her corner. "When someone pays you a compliment, just say 'thank you.' It is one thing to be modest, but it is another to appear as though you have a poor opinion of yourself."
"Yes, Halmeonim." The young woman inclined her head, still smiling. "Thank you, sir."
"You are very welcome," Yong-ha replied, smiling back. "And may I suggest that you get used to receiving compliments-once I'm through with you, you won't be able to take five steps without someone telling you how good you look."
Despite the compliments on her work, the piecemeal first "lesson" left Iseul unsure whether she had learned anything, but whether she liked it or not, she got the opportunity to put whatever she might have learned into practice that very evening, during Jung-hwa's next painting lesson.
Whether it was because Iseul was being too transparent in her regard for Jung-soo, or because Jung-hwa decided on her own that it would be a good idea to try and pair her brother with her painting teacher, Iseul didn't know; but that night, her student was plainly bent on throwing the two together.
For one thing, she insisted that her brother attend her painting lesson with her. "You're going away again soon, Orabeoni," she explained. "You have to spend as much time as possible with me so I won't miss you so much while you're gone."
"Maybe I want you to miss me," Jung-soo teased her. "At least someone will."
"Of course I'll miss you, but do you also want me to be very sad even before you've gone away?" She pouted prettily. It occurred to Iseul that Jung-hwa was probably giving her an excellent flirting demonstration, but she wanted Jung-soo to see her as a woman, not a younger sister.
Jung-hwa's approach seemed effective, however, because it didn't take him long to agree to stay. "As long as I don't have to do any painting," he said as he sat down opposite from Iseul.
His sister looked horrified. "Oh, but if you don't, you'll feel left out and we don't want that!" She pushed a blank sheet of paper towards him, and that took care of that protest.
After making sure that her brother was going to be occupied for a while, Jung-hwa announced that she had forgotten to do something important for their mother and left the room. Iseul stifled the impulse to beg the girl to stay and stole a sidelong glance at the other person left sitting at the table. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw that Jung-soo was looking at her, too. "I hope you're not going to rate my efforts as well, Teacher Kim," he said with a teasing lift of his eyebrows.
"That's not what I'm being paid to do here," she blurted out and, fearing that she may have sounded waspish, scrambled to smooth things over. "So... don't worry."
Jung-soo gave a polite chuckle, but otherwise did not answer. Iseul cringed inwardly and tried again. “The-the agasshi said you were going away. Where will you be going?”
To her delight (and immense relief), the question earned her an easy smile. “Just to Haeju” was the reply. “I am going on a buying trip for my father.”
“Master Bang is fortunate to have a son like you helping him,” she ventured, hoping she didn't sound ridiculous.
“I do my best,” he said, ducking his head modestly.
After another awkward, seemingly endless pause, she remembered to ask about the family business, and the conversation sputtered on in fits and starts until Jung-hwa made her return. “I'm back!” the girl chirped. “Did I miss anything important?”
“Of course not,” her brother replied. “Teacher Kim and I were just waiting for you.”
Iseul mustered a smile as he quickly (far too quickly, it seemed) turned his attention from her to his sister. Gu Yong-ha had made conversing seem so easy, but it was painfully clear, from the fact that her own feeble attempts had failed to capture Jung-soo's interest, that she still had much to learn.
The Joseon Chamber of Commerce held its first meeting one evening in Master Hwang's bookshop. Yong-ha was hard-pressed to hide his eager smile when he arrived to find the sizable front room practically full. Those present ran the gamut of the business sector: there were richly dressed merchants, laborers in unbleached cotton, ahjumma shopkeepers still wearing their aprons, and many others in between. He was not a dedicated scholar like Sun-joon or a civil servant like Jae-shin, but Yong-ha had spent enough time at Sungkyunkwan to appreciate the sight of many tradespeople showing interest in making Joseon a better place.
He was bowing politely to an acquaintance when he noticed Kim Iseul entering the bookshop. “Teacher Kim!” he greeted her. “Hello!”
She paused at the sound of her name, and smiled politely when she saw him. “Hello, Master Gu.”
“Are you here for the meeting?”
To his surprise, she said that she was. “I thought it might be useful to listen to the discussion, since I am somewhat in trade,” she explained. “After all, I do business with the parents of the children I teach, do I not?”
Yong-ha pondered this briefly. “I hadn't thought of it that way,” he admitted, “but you're right. Your position as a teacher is unique, but you earn money for the work that you do.”
His agreement was rewarded with a rare smile-and a priceless invitation. “My neighbors have invited me to sit with them,” she volunteered then, and gestured to a group that had staked out a spot near the front of the room. “Would you like to join us?”
By now, the crowd had spilled out to the street outside. It would be foolish to refuse when he needed to be as close as possible to the action. “I believe I would, Teacher Kim. Thank you.”
Iseul led him to a group of artisans of varying ages, all of whom greeted her warmly. “I hope it's all right if I invited Master Gu Yong-ha to sit with us,” she told them diffidently. “It's crowded, and he didn't seem to have anyone to sit with.”
“Of course he's welcome,” said a wiry, gray-haired weaver. “Though I find it hard to believe that a social butterfly like him would not have anyone to sit with,” he added with a teasing grin that revealed some of his missing teeth.
Yong-ha laughed. “Well, I am grateful to all of you for your hospitality,” he responded easily as he sat down among them. “How are you, Master Shim?”
“Still recovering from the last time you bought silk from me, but I'll live.” Chuckling, the old man took over the task of introducing him to the others. Yong-ha already knew some of them, while the others were easy enough to win over with his charm and witty banter.
“This is very exciting, is it not?” a shoemaker remarked, looking around eagerly.
“It is indeed, madam,” Yong-ha agreed. “This is Joseon history in the making. I don't think we, the people, have ever done this sort of thing before.”
“Oh, is that so?”
He nodded, spotting an opportunity to highlight his qualifications as a potential leader of the chamber of commerce. “The tradespeople have always had guilds,” he explained, “but this type of arrangement is unprecedented. The Chamber of Commerce means that everyone, from the lowliest of laborers to the richest of merchants-and women as well as men-will have a say; and united, we will speak in a louder voice to the king.”
“Master Gu was once a Sungkyunkwan scholar,” Master Shim told the others, unwittingly helping Yong-ha's cause.
“I once entertained this notion of becoming a civil servant someday,” the younger man confided, affecting a modest air, “but what could I do? Trade is in my blood. Still, the time I spent at Sungkyunkwan wasn't a complete loss. I learned about the law, and about how the government works-useful things for those of us who do business.”
And that is why you must all vote for me to lead this organization, he added silently just as Master Hwang, acting in his capacity as host, began to call the meeting to order.
“How did it go this afternoon?”
“I think things are off to a good start,” Yong-ha replied as he picked up the bottle of dongjeongchun to pour his hyung a drink. They were sitting in An-jeong's rooms, sharing the day's news after the evening meal. “There seems to be a lot of interest in the Chamber of Commerce; Hwang's bookshop was packed.”
“That's good.” An-jeong nodded in thanks to his wife (whose name, Yong-ha learned for the thousandth time, was Geun-hye), who had just placed a few dishes of anju on the table, and took the liquor bottle to return the favor to his brother. “What did you talk about?”
“Not very much,” he admitted. “It took a while for everyone to settle down, and the first thing on the agenda was to start choosing leaders.”
“And everyone wants to be a leader,” the older man concluded dryly.
“Well, a lot of people certainly had their own thoughts on who should lead the organization. After all, how many of them have ever had a chance to be heard?”
An-jeong shrugged, conceding the point, and helped himself to a dried anchovy. “So, whom have you chosen?”
“No one yet. They've only just put forth names for the members to consider.” Yong-ha looked down at his cup and coughed delicately. “Mine... ah... mine was one of them.”
“Really? That's wonderful.” His brother grinned. “You didn't put your own name forward, did you?”
“Hyung!” He shot a self-conscious glance at Geun-hye, who was sitting in the corner, but she didn't look up from her sewing. “Of course I didn't. One of the other merchants nominated me.” To be honest, he had almost done so, but was fortunately spared that task.
“Who else was nominated?”
“A few other merchants. I'm not worried about most of them. The real challenge, I think, will come from Ma Ki-hoon.”
An-jeong nodded thoughtfully. “The Ma family is almost as important as ours; I can see how he could get a lot of votes. You'll need a sound plan if you want to beat him.”
As the brothers began to discuss possible strategies to do just that, Yong-ha thought about his chief rival's conduct at the meeting. Ma Ki-hoon had sat and conversed almost exclusively with the wealthier merchants, and seemed ill at ease with the Chamber of Commerce members who were not of his own kind. Yong-ha made a note to try and capitalize on that.
Strangely, the wine merchant had also spent a lot of time looking disapprovingly in Yong-ha's direction. At first, Yong-ha believed this to be a sign that the other man felt threatened by him (and rightly so), but then he recalled Ki-hoon glaring at Iseul, too, on one or two occasions.
He sat bolt upright as a disconcerting thought occurred to him. Could it be that Ma Ki-hoon was jealous?
An-jeong stopped in mid-sentence. “Is anything wrong?” he asked. Even Geun-hye was looking at them inquiringly from her corner.
“N-no,” Yong-ha answered, settling back down. “I just... remembered something that I had to do tomorrow, that's all.”
The first thing that Iseul noticed when she visited the shop for her next “flirting lesson” was that her teacher seemed very distracted by something. She found it disgraceful from a professional standpoint, because it was the teacher's levels of preparation and engagement that set the tone for the lesson; but worse than that, his behavior was making her uncomfortable, for she had the nagging feeling that his distraction had to do with her.
“Do you need to review our lesson on conversation?” Yong-ha asked her. He was looking in her direction, but his eyes were fixed on a point somewhere to her right. It reminded Iseul of the way her grandmother looked at people, except that this man could probably spot a missing bead from a norigae a hundred paces away (and was, therefore, not at all blind).
“No, seonsaengnim,” she answered. “I think I understand the principles of the lesson.” She glanced away, cringing inwardly as she remembered the debacle with Bang Jung-soo. “I probably just need to practice.”
By now, Iseul had spent enough time in Yong-ha's company to know that he was never at a loss for words, so she expected him to pontificate at length over the importance of practice and how she should do so. However, all he answered was, “Mmm.”
She shot him an inquiring look, managing to catch him looking at her and sending his own gaze skittering away. Now his behavior reminded her of some of her previous male students, but they had been mere boys who were only just beginning to discover the opposite sex. Why would a grown man, especially one with Yong-ha's reputation as a smooth talker and popular with the ladies, be acting the same way?
“Is anything wrong, Master Gu?” Iseul finally asked.
“Of course not, Teacher Kim.” The merchant checked the contents of his teacup with a disinterested air. “What could possibly be wrong?”
“I am sure that saying this isn't at all proper,” she told him bluntly, “but you've been behaving strangely since we got here.”
“Strangely?” demanded Madam Park, who was again present as chaperon. “How strangely? What are you doing with my granddaughter, Gu Yong-ha?”
“Nothing at all, Halmeonim,” he assured her. “I've just had some weighty things on my mind. I didn't mean to offend.”
At that, the old woman relaxed somewhat, but her expression remained faintly suspicious. “If you say so....”
Having averted that possible disaster, the merchant turned back to his student with a smile that seemed a little too bright. “Shall we move on to the next lesson, then?” he suggested briskly. “Did you bring a fan, as I asked?”
“Yes, I did,” Iseul replied, producing one from the bundle at her side. “Though I don't understand why I would need one in this weather.” As if on cue, a slight breeze blew, sending cold autumn air into the shop.
“Fans are for more than just keeping oneself cool,” he told her as he withdrew his own fan from his russet-red sleeve. “You can also use them to let a person know that you're interested in him or her, even if you're standing clear across the room from each other.”
“Really?” Iseul's grandmother asked.
“Oh, yes, Halmeonim,” Yong-ha told her. “In the olden days, our ancestors used fans to send signals to each other on the battlefield, and now I hear that ladies in the West do the same to send, ah, not-so-secret messages to their suitors. I don't know what their signals are, exactly, but there's no reason why the women of Joseon can't have their own.”
Iseul thought the idea was intriguing, but couldn't help remaining a skeptical. “Would a man really notice this sort of thing?”
“If he's the right man, he will. Now, shall we try some of them?” he asked and, when she assented, proceeded with his demonstration. The code used by Western women sounded far more advanced than the signals he had developed, he explained; but at the very least, a fan could be used to draw attention to one's eyes, face, or hands (making it imperative to take care of one's complexion, but that was for another lesson) or indicate whether they were disinterested or wanted to be kissed.
“It is rather distracting,” she remarked, partway through the lesson. Her face grew warm as she realized she had been staring.
She turned away abruptly, alerting Yong-ha to the fact that he had been tapping the folded fan against his lips-the signal for a kiss-for a little longer than he had intended. He promptly dropped the fan, clearing his throat and wondering what to say to salvage the situation.
Suddenly, there was a soft snore. The sound came from Madam Park, who had fallen asleep in her corner. Impulsively, he glanced at the woman's granddaughter, who looked amused at the sight. Their eyes met and they shared a quiet chuckle, both relieved that the tension was broken without any effort on either of their parts.
Yong-ha then decided to seize the opportunity and lay to rest what had been bothering him ever since the Chamber of Commerce meeting. “Teacher Kim,” he began, “may I ask you a personal question?”
“I suppose that would depend on the question,” she answered warily.
That did not sound like a guarantee that he would get an answer, but he forged on anyway. “I was just wondering... are you, by any chance, in some sort of relationship with Ma Ki-hoon, the wine merchant? I noticed him looking at us rather oddly yesterday, at the meeting,” he explained quickly. “So I couldn't help but become a little curious.
“Please don't make that face,” he advised when she shot him a revolted look. “At least, if you must, please do not so so in public. It's highly unattractive.”
With some effort, Iseul did as he asked. “I do have a relationship with that man, but not the kind you're probably thinking,” she told him. “Ma Ki-hoon is my half-brother, from my father's first wife.”
“Oh.” Yong-ha blinked. He had been rather fixated on the disturbing possibility that there was some kind of romance between her and the wine merchant, so this was unexpected. “I'm sorry.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You're sorry that I have a brother like him?”
“I meant that I'm sorry I misunderstood,” he replied, and chuckled. “But you have my sympathies on that, if you want them.”
Iseul tried (and failed) to suppress a snicker. “Thank you, but that won't be necessary. I have little to do with my father's family, but I don't regret it much.” She glanced at her grandmother, who was still napping in her corner. “I'm more than happy with the family that I do have.”
“Of course you are. The Kims might not be as wealthy as the Mas, but your grandparents are good people. Even I would be proud to be part of their family.”
She smiled, pleased at the compliment to her grandparents. They might not have borne her, but they were the only parents she had ever known. “Thank you, seonsaengnim.”
Yong-ha smiled back. “You're welcome,” he said. “Now, shall we continue with our lesson?”
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Disclaimer: The SKKS-verse belongs to the creators of Sungkyunkwan Scandal. I must also admit I named Yong-ha's sister-in-law after the new President of the Republic of Korea :)
Technical Notes: Haeju is a city in present-day North Korea, further up the coast from Seoul (but not as far north as Pyongyang). My understanding is that the place already had that name in the Joseon era. Also, a norigae is an ornament fastened to a woman's hanbok, either on the jacket or skirt.
Author's Notes: At long last (after a bit of a struggle to finish writing the last few scenes), here's the latest chapter of this fic. Hopefully the rest will be easier to write! Thank you to naddyamal, Myeongwol07, and marzelle123 (nice to meet you!) for reviewing the previous chapter!
Chapter Four
The consultation with Cho-sun promised to yield a fairly unique lesson plan, but to avoid shocking his neophyte pupil, Yong-ha decided to start with the basics. "We begin with the art of conversation," he announced at Iseul's next appointment, which also signalled the start of the flirting lessons. "There is no better way to engage a man's attention than with a scintillating exchange of ideas."
Her eyebrows rose at the word "scintillating." "Conversation about what?"
"Oh, about practically anything," he replied, shrugging. "But usually something that interests the man."
"Of course."
Madam Park, overseeing the lesson from a comfortable seat in one corner of the workroom, tutted disapprovingly at her granddaughter's dry remark. "Now, Iseul, you must address your teacher with the proper respect."
"Thank you, Halmeonim," Yong-ha said with great dignity.
The old woman gave him a cheeky smile. "After all,” she added, “if all the gossip I've been hearing is correct, he is an expert in his field."
Jung-soo. This is for Bang Jung-soo. Iseul took a deep breath and pasted a pleasant expression on her face. "And what sort of subjects are interesting to men, seonsaengnim?"
"Well, we like to talk about horses and sport, to begin with," the merchant told her. "Of course, once you become better acquainted with someone, it becomes easier to find more specific topics of conversation. For instance...." His eye fell on the portfolio in her lap. "I, personally, am interested in the visual arts. If you were flirting with me, then you might try to start a conversation about the sketches that you said you brought for me to look at. May I see them?"
Iseul blushed self-consciously. Unlike the pieces she painted to order, the ones she had with her were more private works, her very own ideas executed in her personal style. "You might think they're silly," she demurred.
"A true gentleman would never think such a thing," the young man assured her. "Please, may I?"
Slowly, she handed over the paperboard folder, opening it so that he could take out the drawings inside. "I-I came up with a few ideas for my clothes after our last meeting," she explained as he leafed through them. "I thought about some things that might look good together, but I don't know how much it would cost, but...." She gestured ineffectually. "For whatever it's worth, there they are."
"These are excellent, Teacher Kim," Yong-ha praised her. The heads and hands of the figures were mere suggestions, but the clothing, complete with prints and embroidery designs, was meticulously rendered. "You have a very good eye for line and color. May I keep these?”
She looked pleased by the compliments, but the request brought her up short. “What are you going to do with them?”
“We will use them as a guide for your new clothes, of course,” he explained with a patient smile. “We might not be able to copy everything exactly, but we will do what we can to match your drawings. The jewel tones you used here will complement your coloring very nicely."
"You really think they're good?"
“Yes,” he assured her, “I think they are very good. I should have known that you had inherited some of your grandparents' talent."
"Oh." She laughed, and the expression quite transformed her whole face. "I don't really know about that. My grandparents were artists. I'm just a painting teacher."
"Iseul." Madam Park spoke up again from her corner. "When someone pays you a compliment, just say 'thank you.' It is one thing to be modest, but it is another to appear as though you have a poor opinion of yourself."
"Yes, Halmeonim." The young woman inclined her head, still smiling. "Thank you, sir."
"You are very welcome," Yong-ha replied, smiling back. "And may I suggest that you get used to receiving compliments-once I'm through with you, you won't be able to take five steps without someone telling you how good you look."
Despite the compliments on her work, the piecemeal first "lesson" left Iseul unsure whether she had learned anything, but whether she liked it or not, she got the opportunity to put whatever she might have learned into practice that very evening, during Jung-hwa's next painting lesson.
Whether it was because Iseul was being too transparent in her regard for Jung-soo, or because Jung-hwa decided on her own that it would be a good idea to try and pair her brother with her painting teacher, Iseul didn't know; but that night, her student was plainly bent on throwing the two together.
For one thing, she insisted that her brother attend her painting lesson with her. "You're going away again soon, Orabeoni," she explained. "You have to spend as much time as possible with me so I won't miss you so much while you're gone."
"Maybe I want you to miss me," Jung-soo teased her. "At least someone will."
"Of course I'll miss you, but do you also want me to be very sad even before you've gone away?" She pouted prettily. It occurred to Iseul that Jung-hwa was probably giving her an excellent flirting demonstration, but she wanted Jung-soo to see her as a woman, not a younger sister.
Jung-hwa's approach seemed effective, however, because it didn't take him long to agree to stay. "As long as I don't have to do any painting," he said as he sat down opposite from Iseul.
His sister looked horrified. "Oh, but if you don't, you'll feel left out and we don't want that!" She pushed a blank sheet of paper towards him, and that took care of that protest.
After making sure that her brother was going to be occupied for a while, Jung-hwa announced that she had forgotten to do something important for their mother and left the room. Iseul stifled the impulse to beg the girl to stay and stole a sidelong glance at the other person left sitting at the table. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw that Jung-soo was looking at her, too. "I hope you're not going to rate my efforts as well, Teacher Kim," he said with a teasing lift of his eyebrows.
"That's not what I'm being paid to do here," she blurted out and, fearing that she may have sounded waspish, scrambled to smooth things over. "So... don't worry."
Jung-soo gave a polite chuckle, but otherwise did not answer. Iseul cringed inwardly and tried again. “The-the agasshi said you were going away. Where will you be going?”
To her delight (and immense relief), the question earned her an easy smile. “Just to Haeju” was the reply. “I am going on a buying trip for my father.”
“Master Bang is fortunate to have a son like you helping him,” she ventured, hoping she didn't sound ridiculous.
“I do my best,” he said, ducking his head modestly.
After another awkward, seemingly endless pause, she remembered to ask about the family business, and the conversation sputtered on in fits and starts until Jung-hwa made her return. “I'm back!” the girl chirped. “Did I miss anything important?”
“Of course not,” her brother replied. “Teacher Kim and I were just waiting for you.”
Iseul mustered a smile as he quickly (far too quickly, it seemed) turned his attention from her to his sister. Gu Yong-ha had made conversing seem so easy, but it was painfully clear, from the fact that her own feeble attempts had failed to capture Jung-soo's interest, that she still had much to learn.
The Joseon Chamber of Commerce held its first meeting one evening in Master Hwang's bookshop. Yong-ha was hard-pressed to hide his eager smile when he arrived to find the sizable front room practically full. Those present ran the gamut of the business sector: there were richly dressed merchants, laborers in unbleached cotton, ahjumma shopkeepers still wearing their aprons, and many others in between. He was not a dedicated scholar like Sun-joon or a civil servant like Jae-shin, but Yong-ha had spent enough time at Sungkyunkwan to appreciate the sight of many tradespeople showing interest in making Joseon a better place.
He was bowing politely to an acquaintance when he noticed Kim Iseul entering the bookshop. “Teacher Kim!” he greeted her. “Hello!”
She paused at the sound of her name, and smiled politely when she saw him. “Hello, Master Gu.”
“Are you here for the meeting?”
To his surprise, she said that she was. “I thought it might be useful to listen to the discussion, since I am somewhat in trade,” she explained. “After all, I do business with the parents of the children I teach, do I not?”
Yong-ha pondered this briefly. “I hadn't thought of it that way,” he admitted, “but you're right. Your position as a teacher is unique, but you earn money for the work that you do.”
His agreement was rewarded with a rare smile-and a priceless invitation. “My neighbors have invited me to sit with them,” she volunteered then, and gestured to a group that had staked out a spot near the front of the room. “Would you like to join us?”
By now, the crowd had spilled out to the street outside. It would be foolish to refuse when he needed to be as close as possible to the action. “I believe I would, Teacher Kim. Thank you.”
Iseul led him to a group of artisans of varying ages, all of whom greeted her warmly. “I hope it's all right if I invited Master Gu Yong-ha to sit with us,” she told them diffidently. “It's crowded, and he didn't seem to have anyone to sit with.”
“Of course he's welcome,” said a wiry, gray-haired weaver. “Though I find it hard to believe that a social butterfly like him would not have anyone to sit with,” he added with a teasing grin that revealed some of his missing teeth.
Yong-ha laughed. “Well, I am grateful to all of you for your hospitality,” he responded easily as he sat down among them. “How are you, Master Shim?”
“Still recovering from the last time you bought silk from me, but I'll live.” Chuckling, the old man took over the task of introducing him to the others. Yong-ha already knew some of them, while the others were easy enough to win over with his charm and witty banter.
“This is very exciting, is it not?” a shoemaker remarked, looking around eagerly.
“It is indeed, madam,” Yong-ha agreed. “This is Joseon history in the making. I don't think we, the people, have ever done this sort of thing before.”
“Oh, is that so?”
He nodded, spotting an opportunity to highlight his qualifications as a potential leader of the chamber of commerce. “The tradespeople have always had guilds,” he explained, “but this type of arrangement is unprecedented. The Chamber of Commerce means that everyone, from the lowliest of laborers to the richest of merchants-and women as well as men-will have a say; and united, we will speak in a louder voice to the king.”
“Master Gu was once a Sungkyunkwan scholar,” Master Shim told the others, unwittingly helping Yong-ha's cause.
“I once entertained this notion of becoming a civil servant someday,” the younger man confided, affecting a modest air, “but what could I do? Trade is in my blood. Still, the time I spent at Sungkyunkwan wasn't a complete loss. I learned about the law, and about how the government works-useful things for those of us who do business.”
And that is why you must all vote for me to lead this organization, he added silently just as Master Hwang, acting in his capacity as host, began to call the meeting to order.
“How did it go this afternoon?”
“I think things are off to a good start,” Yong-ha replied as he picked up the bottle of dongjeongchun to pour his hyung a drink. They were sitting in An-jeong's rooms, sharing the day's news after the evening meal. “There seems to be a lot of interest in the Chamber of Commerce; Hwang's bookshop was packed.”
“That's good.” An-jeong nodded in thanks to his wife (whose name, Yong-ha learned for the thousandth time, was Geun-hye), who had just placed a few dishes of anju on the table, and took the liquor bottle to return the favor to his brother. “What did you talk about?”
“Not very much,” he admitted. “It took a while for everyone to settle down, and the first thing on the agenda was to start choosing leaders.”
“And everyone wants to be a leader,” the older man concluded dryly.
“Well, a lot of people certainly had their own thoughts on who should lead the organization. After all, how many of them have ever had a chance to be heard?”
An-jeong shrugged, conceding the point, and helped himself to a dried anchovy. “So, whom have you chosen?”
“No one yet. They've only just put forth names for the members to consider.” Yong-ha looked down at his cup and coughed delicately. “Mine... ah... mine was one of them.”
“Really? That's wonderful.” His brother grinned. “You didn't put your own name forward, did you?”
“Hyung!” He shot a self-conscious glance at Geun-hye, who was sitting in the corner, but she didn't look up from her sewing. “Of course I didn't. One of the other merchants nominated me.” To be honest, he had almost done so, but was fortunately spared that task.
“Who else was nominated?”
“A few other merchants. I'm not worried about most of them. The real challenge, I think, will come from Ma Ki-hoon.”
An-jeong nodded thoughtfully. “The Ma family is almost as important as ours; I can see how he could get a lot of votes. You'll need a sound plan if you want to beat him.”
As the brothers began to discuss possible strategies to do just that, Yong-ha thought about his chief rival's conduct at the meeting. Ma Ki-hoon had sat and conversed almost exclusively with the wealthier merchants, and seemed ill at ease with the Chamber of Commerce members who were not of his own kind. Yong-ha made a note to try and capitalize on that.
Strangely, the wine merchant had also spent a lot of time looking disapprovingly in Yong-ha's direction. At first, Yong-ha believed this to be a sign that the other man felt threatened by him (and rightly so), but then he recalled Ki-hoon glaring at Iseul, too, on one or two occasions.
He sat bolt upright as a disconcerting thought occurred to him. Could it be that Ma Ki-hoon was jealous?
An-jeong stopped in mid-sentence. “Is anything wrong?” he asked. Even Geun-hye was looking at them inquiringly from her corner.
“N-no,” Yong-ha answered, settling back down. “I just... remembered something that I had to do tomorrow, that's all.”
The first thing that Iseul noticed when she visited the shop for her next “flirting lesson” was that her teacher seemed very distracted by something. She found it disgraceful from a professional standpoint, because it was the teacher's levels of preparation and engagement that set the tone for the lesson; but worse than that, his behavior was making her uncomfortable, for she had the nagging feeling that his distraction had to do with her.
“Do you need to review our lesson on conversation?” Yong-ha asked her. He was looking in her direction, but his eyes were fixed on a point somewhere to her right. It reminded Iseul of the way her grandmother looked at people, except that this man could probably spot a missing bead from a norigae a hundred paces away (and was, therefore, not at all blind).
“No, seonsaengnim,” she answered. “I think I understand the principles of the lesson.” She glanced away, cringing inwardly as she remembered the debacle with Bang Jung-soo. “I probably just need to practice.”
By now, Iseul had spent enough time in Yong-ha's company to know that he was never at a loss for words, so she expected him to pontificate at length over the importance of practice and how she should do so. However, all he answered was, “Mmm.”
She shot him an inquiring look, managing to catch him looking at her and sending his own gaze skittering away. Now his behavior reminded her of some of her previous male students, but they had been mere boys who were only just beginning to discover the opposite sex. Why would a grown man, especially one with Yong-ha's reputation as a smooth talker and popular with the ladies, be acting the same way?
“Is anything wrong, Master Gu?” Iseul finally asked.
“Of course not, Teacher Kim.” The merchant checked the contents of his teacup with a disinterested air. “What could possibly be wrong?”
“I am sure that saying this isn't at all proper,” she told him bluntly, “but you've been behaving strangely since we got here.”
“Strangely?” demanded Madam Park, who was again present as chaperon. “How strangely? What are you doing with my granddaughter, Gu Yong-ha?”
“Nothing at all, Halmeonim,” he assured her. “I've just had some weighty things on my mind. I didn't mean to offend.”
At that, the old woman relaxed somewhat, but her expression remained faintly suspicious. “If you say so....”
Having averted that possible disaster, the merchant turned back to his student with a smile that seemed a little too bright. “Shall we move on to the next lesson, then?” he suggested briskly. “Did you bring a fan, as I asked?”
“Yes, I did,” Iseul replied, producing one from the bundle at her side. “Though I don't understand why I would need one in this weather.” As if on cue, a slight breeze blew, sending cold autumn air into the shop.
“Fans are for more than just keeping oneself cool,” he told her as he withdrew his own fan from his russet-red sleeve. “You can also use them to let a person know that you're interested in him or her, even if you're standing clear across the room from each other.”
“Really?” Iseul's grandmother asked.
“Oh, yes, Halmeonim,” Yong-ha told her. “In the olden days, our ancestors used fans to send signals to each other on the battlefield, and now I hear that ladies in the West do the same to send, ah, not-so-secret messages to their suitors. I don't know what their signals are, exactly, but there's no reason why the women of Joseon can't have their own.”
Iseul thought the idea was intriguing, but couldn't help remaining a skeptical. “Would a man really notice this sort of thing?”
“If he's the right man, he will. Now, shall we try some of them?” he asked and, when she assented, proceeded with his demonstration. The code used by Western women sounded far more advanced than the signals he had developed, he explained; but at the very least, a fan could be used to draw attention to one's eyes, face, or hands (making it imperative to take care of one's complexion, but that was for another lesson) or indicate whether they were disinterested or wanted to be kissed.
“It is rather distracting,” she remarked, partway through the lesson. Her face grew warm as she realized she had been staring.
She turned away abruptly, alerting Yong-ha to the fact that he had been tapping the folded fan against his lips-the signal for a kiss-for a little longer than he had intended. He promptly dropped the fan, clearing his throat and wondering what to say to salvage the situation.
Suddenly, there was a soft snore. The sound came from Madam Park, who had fallen asleep in her corner. Impulsively, he glanced at the woman's granddaughter, who looked amused at the sight. Their eyes met and they shared a quiet chuckle, both relieved that the tension was broken without any effort on either of their parts.
Yong-ha then decided to seize the opportunity and lay to rest what had been bothering him ever since the Chamber of Commerce meeting. “Teacher Kim,” he began, “may I ask you a personal question?”
“I suppose that would depend on the question,” she answered warily.
That did not sound like a guarantee that he would get an answer, but he forged on anyway. “I was just wondering... are you, by any chance, in some sort of relationship with Ma Ki-hoon, the wine merchant? I noticed him looking at us rather oddly yesterday, at the meeting,” he explained quickly. “So I couldn't help but become a little curious.
“Please don't make that face,” he advised when she shot him a revolted look. “At least, if you must, please do not so so in public. It's highly unattractive.”
With some effort, Iseul did as he asked. “I do have a relationship with that man, but not the kind you're probably thinking,” she told him. “Ma Ki-hoon is my half-brother, from my father's first wife.”
“Oh.” Yong-ha blinked. He had been rather fixated on the disturbing possibility that there was some kind of romance between her and the wine merchant, so this was unexpected. “I'm sorry.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You're sorry that I have a brother like him?”
“I meant that I'm sorry I misunderstood,” he replied, and chuckled. “But you have my sympathies on that, if you want them.”
Iseul tried (and failed) to suppress a snicker. “Thank you, but that won't be necessary. I have little to do with my father's family, but I don't regret it much.” She glanced at her grandmother, who was still napping in her corner. “I'm more than happy with the family that I do have.”
“Of course you are. The Kims might not be as wealthy as the Mas, but your grandparents are good people. Even I would be proud to be part of their family.”
She smiled, pleased at the compliment to her grandparents. They might not have borne her, but they were the only parents she had ever known. “Thank you, seonsaengnim.”
Yong-ha smiled back. “You're welcome,” he said. “Now, shall we continue with our lesson?”